And on the heels of the words came a flash from the skies, blazing full upon the dripping figure of the giant as he reached a great arm up, gripped the lee-rail, and swung himself on board with the unconscious ease of a perfect athlete.
"Thy boat, Milo?" inquired Dolores.
"Sailed under, Sultana. I have held the flare aloft in my hand while swimming until a moment ago, when the powder burned out."
"And Rufe?"
"The sloop is close by. Thou art sailing fair at his stern if thy course was not changed to avoid me. His topmast is gone; he sails slowly."
Then without more ado the splendid human animal clutched a backstay and swarmed aloft with the agility of an ape, showing not a whit of strain after his battle with the roaring seas. He reached Stumpy, sent that numbed mariner down, and searched the waters with his keen vision, waiting for another lightning flash. And when it came, fainter now as the thunderstorm receded, his resonant voice boomed down:
"Broad abeam the sloop lies! She runs before the wind!"
"Slack away the main-sheet!" cried Dolores, heaving the helm up. "Hail every minute, Milo!"
"Shall I send him a shot immediately, lady?" roared Hanglip, at the schooner's foremost gun.
"Hold with thy shots, villain! Does Rufe deserve no sport? Stand by with the grappling-hooks. I'll run him down!"